direction, and at Halsted Street dropped again to the pavement. He crossed the long viaducts and bridges until he came to Fulton Street, and turned again and halted finally after a long walk.
Across the street from him trucks entered and came out of a dingy, low building, lettered, "Markyn Transfer Company Stable No. 1." As he crossed to one of the wide doors and looked in, the large men who moved about their affairs within, in a smell of gasoline and oil, paid no attention to him. There was, he knew, no risk of meeting here any member of the Markyn family; these people were underlings. He went in guardedly, expectant of being ordered out, but reached the door of the cage-like office unchallenged and looked in. He saw two clerks inside busy with papers. He stepped in and sat down upon the bench inside the door and watched the clerks and the drivers who passed in and out with their reports. When he had sat for half an hour, he noted that one of the clerks was becoming oppressed by his continued presence.
